Baby Steps

Grief doesn’t magically end after a certain amount of time has lapsed after a loved one’s death. There are times when I have daily reminders of my loss. Certain reminders of Steve are inevitable, especially during holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries. Reminders of my loss are not just special dates, but can be tied to a particular song, restaurant, activity, building, or sights and smells around me. They are everywhere.

I try to avoid places that might bring back difficult memories for me. Memorial events or news of a sudden death triggers the pain and sadness of my own loss. I am not only sad about my loss, but I can truly feel how a young wife who suddenly losses her husband may feel. I have empathy towards these women.

This week I confronted two of my greatest fears. My first fear, was visiting the same mortuary that was host of some of the memorial events accompanying Steve’s death. Monday night I attended a viewing of a young husband/father, whom passed away suddenly. The viewing was not only at the same mortuary, but also in the same room that Steve’s viewing was held in.

The day was full of anxiety for me as I contemplated whether or not I would be able to confront my fear. I finally made the decision to attend the viewing. Katelyn agreed to accompany me, she is so brave. We came early hoping that I could just process my feelings without a lot of people around. I walked past the room were Steve’s parents and I dressed Steve in his temple clothing. Memories of a very tender time with Steve’s parents were brought to my mind.

I walked down the hall and entered the hallway leading to the viewing room. Many thoughts, memories, and tender feelings came back. My mind was filled with memories of my grieving children, spending time by the video, and table of memorabilia of their dad. They wanted to remember the happy times with him. The tears flowed, but it was ok. I gave the family my condolences, and left quickly out the side door. I was surprised that I was able to successfully face one of my fears.

My second fear was visiting the hospital where Steve was taken to the night of his passing. I have driven by this hospital many times, and have been filled with pain, and sadness.

Tuesday, an elderly woman I visit teach asked me to take her to this particular hospital for some tests. I obliged, thinking that it would be on the opposite end of the Emergency Room entrance. When we arrived, she told me that we were to enter through the emergency room entrance. I dropped her off there so she wouldn’t have to walk, and contemplated my dilemma.

I thought I could be as brave as I was Monday night and confront my second fear completely, but it didn’t happen. I wasn’t able to enter through the Emergency Room doors; I walked to the front of the hospital, entered, and found my way to my destination. Nothing was familiar; it didn’t remind me of that dreadful night.

This sweet, bright, woman noticed that I had come in from a different direction. Not many words were exchanged, but she knew, and I knew, why I had chosen a different path.

I wasn’t entirely successful at confronting both of these fears, but I felt like I made significant progress. Someday I’ll be braver, but for the time being.....baby steps.